His dream
by Skovko
Summary: Drew has used this company for a long time. He always books the same woman. Over time things have changed. He's secretly fallen in love with her despite it being against the rules. On a weekend trip together, she reveals how she doesn't like this line of works, and that changes everything. He can no longer do it. In his eyes he's part of the problem. Walking away is hard to do.
1. His fantasy

Drew looked at the naked, wet woman in the shower with him. Chanterelle. If that was even her real name. He couldn't know for sure. A lot of people in her profession used fake names. She was a luxury prostitute. One that he paid great money for whenever he had her. She could work any crowd and be any person she needed to be in front of people. No one could ever tell who she truly was unless she told them.

He had booked her for an entire weekend. Normally she charged 250 dollars per hour. If he booked her for an entire day, he would get a discount. Instead of 6000 dollars, he paid 5000 dollars for a day. A weekend should have been 15.000 dollars but for some reason she had lowered the price to 10.000 dollars for him. She didn't tell him why, and he didn't ask.

He enjoyed her everytime. She was worth every penny and then some more. He always found that he missed her when he was on the road or home alone. She was everything he wanted but he couldn't know for sure if she was real or just a fantasy that she played for him. She felt real. He knew her by now. It didn't feel like she was faking it.

He looked at her back while she rinsed her long, bronze brown hair of shampoo. She turned around and her amber eyes took his breath away for a second. Always so full of life and love to him. He caught something from the corner of his eye and looked at her shoulder. There was a bruise he hadn't noticed in bed. Probably because she had covered it up with makeup that the water had now washed off.

"What happened?" He asked.

He pointed at her bruise. She looked down at it and then back at him with a smile on her face. Those thin lips that always begged for him to kiss them. She hadn't kissed the first many times together. He didn't know what had made her suddenly break that rule and start kissing him. He never questioned it. He was afraid she would stop if he asked why.

"Oh, that," she giggled. "It's nothing. Sometimes sex gets a bit rough. You know that."  
"Someone hurt you?" He asked.

He frowned at the image in his head. Someone put his hands on her. She kept the smile on her face and slid her hands up his chest and up to his shoulders.

"It's not like that. You know how it is. You're not always the most gentle man yourself," she said.

She was right about that. Sex could get rough sometimes. He never stepped over the line. She always agreed to what he wanted. He knew she had her rules. She would never let anyone hurt her for real.

That bruise could have come from her banging her shoulder into the wall while having sex up against it. He couldn't know for sure, and he knew he couldn't ask her about her other clients. That was against the rules. But sometimes he really wanted to know. Everything. Who she was with, what they paid, what she did to them, and what she let them do to her.

He was jealous. Jealous that other sweaty bodies would be on top of hers. Jealous that other greedy eyes would steal glances of her naked beauty. Jealous that others got to put their hands, mouths and dicks on the woman he had secretly fallen in love with. He wasn't allowed to catch feelings so he couldn't tell her.

"Okay, your turn," she said.

She stepped out of the shower and left him in there alone. He washed his hair as fast as he could while he watched her dry herself. Wet or dry, it didn't matter. She was beautiful no matter how she looked. He turned off the water and joined her out on the floor. He dried himself before pulling her in for a kiss. Since kisses had been allowed for a while now, he took as many of them as he could get. He moved his mouth to her bruised shoulder and gently kissed it.

"I would never hurt you like this," he mumbled.  
"I know," she sighed.

The happy tone in her voice was gone. He had never heard her sound unhappy before. He looked up to search for her eyes but she turned around and walked back into the hotel room that he had booked for them. He followed behind, wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her down on the bed with him. He left small kisses over her skin while crawling around until he had her on her back and he was lying on his side next to her. He ran a hand down her cheek and smiled at her. She smiled back. That beautiful smile. Those beautiful lips.

"How can you be this beautiful?" He asked.  
"Do you want a lesson in genetics?" She joked.  
"No," he chuckled. "I mean, how does someone as beautiful as you end up in this line of work. Don't doors open everywhere for the beautiful people of the world? I'm sure I heard that somewhere."  
"Sometimes we knock on the wrong door and find ourselves in places we don't wanna be," she said.

Her eyes changed. It was like the life in them was sucked right out of them. There was the unhappiness that matched the tone of her voice in the bathroom.

"Do you even like this job?" He asked.  
"I'm good at it, aren't I? You don't complain," she said.

She put on a smile again but it didn't seem real this time. He knew her smiles. She never smiled like that before.

"That's not what I'm asking," he said. "Do you like this job?"  
"Not really," she said.

It felt like all air was sucked out of the room. He moved back a little. Not much but enough for her to notice. The look in her eyes changed to one of fear. Or maybe one of loss. He wasn't sure. Something was wrong. That was clear.

"I like some of it. I like you. You're my favorite," she said.

He didn't say anything. He searched his brain but he couldn't come up with anything to say. Not one single word. The woman of his dreams didn't like what she was doing. That was all he heard. She didn't like it. She didn't like sleeping with men for money. He slept with her for money, and she didn't like it. That meant she didn't like him.

"It's just the violent ones," she said.  
"Violent ones?" He asked.  
"I can't lie to you," she sighed. "Like this bruise on my shoulder. Someone punched me. He was aiming for my face and I tried to move to the side. He hit my shoulder instead."  
"Why?" He asked.  
"He felt like I was ripping him off since he finished in half an hour. He thought he should only pay half although he agreed to the terms when he booked me. 250 dollars for an hour. No less. I don't make the rules. The company does," she said.

He knew that all too well. He had felt awkward contacting the company the first time he booked her. He had seen her on their website and knew instantly that he could never choose one of the other women. He only wanted her. She had lived up to his fantasies and then some more. She had become his dream.

"Report the asshole," he said.  
"You know I can't," she said. "He's famous. You're all famous."

That hurt. Every man booking one of those women had money. Big money. And with that amount of money, people always knew about them. That called for complete discretion when booking a prostitute which this company specialized in. That was one of the reasons he had looked at their website to begin with. Jinder Mahal had mentioned it one night when Drew had talked about how lonely he felt somtimes.

"Let's not talk about that. This is our weekend," she said.

She pulled him down and kissed him. He could forget the entire world when she kissed him. Normally he would. This time a small voice kept talking in the back of his mind. It was saying things he didn't want to hear but it didn't shut up.

"Take me, Drew," she purred. "I want you."  
"I want you too," he said.

He rolled on top of her and kissed down her neck. He tried his hardest to ignore the voice in the back of his mind but it kept talking. Now that he had allowed it to open up, it wouldn't shut down again. He bit down on her neck, trying to force the voice out but concentrating on her and her beautiful moans.

His fantasy. His dream. His woman. His Chanterelle.


	2. Still his dream

The voice inside Drew's head hadn't kept quiet. He had listened to it all night while Chanterelle slept beside him without knowing the struggle inside him. He had watched her sleep in all her beauty. Far away in dreamland. Like a princess in a fairytale. Like Sleeping Beauty. He could kiss her to wake her up but he doubted it would grant him the classic fairytale ending. He wasn't a prince. He was just a man in love with a woman he could never have.

He couldn't block out the voice in his mind so he had tried arguing with it at first. That hadn't gone anywhere. He knew the voice was right. When the morning sun caressed her beautiful face, he did the one thing he didn't wanna do. He gave in to the voice. He agreed with it. After all, it was right.

He wasn't any better than any of the other men buying her and using her for money. It didn't matter that she had said the night before that he was her favorite. As much as those words had warmed his heart in that moment, he knew there was a chance that she said that to all her clients. That was all he was. All he would ever be. Her client. He was scum just like all the others.

"Chanterelle?" He spoke softly.  
"Mmm," she hummed.

Her voice was always so beautiful. Tired or awake, even talking in her sleep, it always sounded so beautiful. Just like the rest of her was. He had to push away the thought of going back on his own agreement with himself.

"You gotta wake up, beautiful," he said.

She opened her eyes and smirked at him.

"Do you want a morning roll in bed?" She asked.

Did he ever. If only she knew how much he wanted to bury himself deep inside her once more. If only she knew how much he struggled inside right in that moment. If only she knew everything that was going on inside him, but she would never know. He wasn't gonna tell her.

"We need to leave," he said.  
"Why?" She asked.  
"I was called back to work early," he lied.  
"I thought we had all weekend," she pouted.

That pout was killing him. He almost went back on his own word to himself. He almost told her he was joking and that they would spend Saturday in bed. Or maybe visit a museum and a restaurant like they had originally planned. Go out and pretend to be a real couple. He couldn't pretend anymore. He had to stick to his lie.

"So did I but apparently a few of the others have come down with the flu so they need me for the house shows," he said.  
"That's a shame. I was looking forward to this weekend, but I understand. The world needs Drew McIntyre. Another time, right?" She said.  
"Yeah, another time," he said.

He was lying through his teeth. She gave him one of her beautiful smiles. He had to look away so she wouldn't see how much he was hurting. He knew his eyes would give him away if he looked at her. Instead he left the bed and started packing his bag.

"You should pack. I really need to go," he said.

She got out of bed too and started packing. He cast a side glance at her to see she stayed naked until she had packed. As if she wanted to torture him and show him what he was missing out on. He knew damn well. He knew every inch of her body. He could picture her to perfection with his eyes closed.

"All set," she said. "Do we have time for a quick roll before we leave?"  
"I'm afraid not," he said.  
"You're playing a hard game, mister," she chuckled.  
"You'll still get paid for the entire weekend," he said.  
"I know. They already took your money from your credit card so you can't really get them back," she said.

Her voice was light and jokingly. Her words were still the truth but her voice was without concern and just how he liked it. That beautiful voice that he would never hear again. He just wanted her to keep talking.

Instead she dressed in the clothes she had arrived in the night before. Hot pink, lace underwear because she knew it was his favorite set. Black dress pants, a white dress shirt with long, ruffle sleeves, and a black vest with white pin stripes. She always looked professional like a business partner around him. Because he had asked for that the first time, and she delivered that role everytime.

He didn't know what to say. He yanked up his bag and went to the door. She followed behind him wordlessly. They went down to the lobby where he checked out. Time was closing in on them and she had no clue. They got into his car and he drove her back to his house. She would find her own way home from there. How, he never knew. He just knew that she did. She leaned over in the car and kissed him. One final kiss.

"I enjoyed myself," she said.  
"Sorry," he said.  
"Don't be. Your work is important. We'll get a weekend together another time. You know where to find me," she said.

He should tell her. He had made himself believe during the car trip home that he would tell her as soon as they arrived. He would tell her this was the end of them. He would tell her that they could no longer see each other. He would tell her that she did nothing wrong. That he was the problem. That he couldn't do it anymore and that she didn't need to worry about him.

One look at her and he chickened out. He couldn't tell her goodbye. Despite knowing he would never see her again, he couldn't tell her. He would rather see her leave with a smile on her face, thinking that he would call the agency and book her again soon.

"I..." He cleared his throat. "I really need to go."  
"Of course. I won't keep you," she pecked his lips. "Goodbye, Drew."  
"Goodbye, beautiful," he said.

She stepped out of his car, grabbed her bag from the trunk and started walking down his driveway. He kept sitting in his car, watching her leave. She stopped at the end and gave him a wave and a smile. He waved back but he couldn't smile. She turned and walked left, disappearing down the road and out of his life.

Still his fantasy. Still his dream. But no longer his woman. No longer his Chanterelle.


	3. His woman

Drew felt uncomfortable in his black suit. He rocked a suit to perfection. He knew that from all the heads that turned to look at him and all the women trying to hold back their drool. He just didn't like wearing a suit. He was more of a jeans and t-shirt man. Casual looking. Staying in on the couch, cuddling with a woman. Although these days he only cuddled with a pillow.

"Champagne?" A waitress asked.

He shook his head no. He wasn't gonna drink when he needed to be able to drive home. He didn't like events like this but sometimes it was called for in his line of work. If Vince demanded them to attend an event, they couldn't say no. That was why he was here at an afterparty after an award show, wearing this godawful suit that he couldn't wait to get out of.

He walked down to the corner where a bar had been set up. He ordered a glass of orange soda. He was handed the drink a few seconds later. He brought it to his lips and took a sip while slowly turning towards the party again. He almost choked when his eyes landed on Chanterelle.

He hadn't seen her in three months but she was still as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair had been curled in big, soft curls. The front of her hair was pulled back with a hair clip while the curls hang down her back that was on full display in that eggplant colored dress. A long dress with thin straps, a low back, a waterfall neckline and a thin gold chain around the waist that he couldn't tell if it was part of the dress or some sort of weird belt she had chosen to put with the dress. Either way, she looked beautiful.

She was smiling as she accepted a glass of champagne from the waitress. Clearly she wasn't driving. She never was. Her clients would always drive her around. He knew that first hand. She took a sip and looked around. Her eyes landed on him and her smile fell. It felt like a hand reached through his chest and squeezed his heart tight when he saw that. He was the reason she stopped smiling in that moment.

He placed his glass of orange soda back on the counter and walked towards her. He knew he shouldn't. If she was there at a fancy party, she was there with a client. He had no right to interfere with her work but he couldn't stop himself. He had sworn to stay away from her, but how could he when she walked right back into his life?

"Chanterelle," he said.  
"Hi, Drew," she said.  
"You look absolutely beautiful tonight," he said.  
"Thank you," she said.  
"Who are you here with?" He asked.

He knew he had no right to ask that but he needed to know. He needed to know it wasn't someone from his work. As far as he knew, only Jinder used the agency, and Jinder wasn't here tonight. In the end it didn't really matter who she was with. It would hurt either way.

"Jey," she answered.  
"Jey? Jey who?" He asked.

She let out a sigh and her eyes turned sad. He knew the answer before she told him.

"Jey Uso," she answered.

He wanted to explode in a mix of rage and pain. Not on her but on Jey and every other man out there who had ever had her. Instead he managed to keep it all within.

"I didn't know you started seeing him," he said.  
"It's the first time," she said. "He said someone from work recommended the agency."  
"It sure as hell wasn't me!" He growled.  
"I know. It was Jinder. Jey told me. You know I like honesty with my clients," she said.

She drummed her index finger on her glass of champagne. Clearly she was waiting for him to say something but he didn't know what.

"Honesty, Drew," she said. "Do you think you could be honest with me tonight? Last time I saw you, you lied to me."  
"I did what I had to do," he said.

She nodded, emptied her glass of champagne, and put the empty glass on a table.

"Goodbye, Drew," she said.  
"No, wait," he said.  
"You did what you had to do for whatever reasons that you might have had. Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta do what I have to do. And I have a client to attend to," she said.

He stood there in the middle of the room, watching her cross the floor in that beautiful eggplant colored dress. She walked to the door and disappeared outside. The second she was gone, he sprinted after her. He couldn't let her go. Not again. Not one day had gone by where he hadn't thought about her. He ran outside and was happy to see no one else was around. He ran to her and grabbed her.

"Look, what I did," he said.  
"You lied to me!" She snarled. "I know I'm nothing but a fucking whore to most of you guys but I thought you were different. You always treated me with respect. Like I fucking mattered! And all this time I was nothing but a hole for you to fill up whenever you couldn't be bothered finding a real woman. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Her words cut deeply. Not because of her accusations, but because she called herself a whore. He never saw her like that. Even though he put down money to be with her, he saw her as so much more. Her arm slid out of his hand, and she started walking again. She didn't take many steps before he grabbed her again and spun her back around to face him.

"No, listen!" He said determined. "I had to let you go because it was the right thing to do. Because I broke the rules."  
"You didn't break the rules," she said.  
"I fell in love with you," he said. "I wasn't gonna tell you. I thought I could stay in this fantasy world with you where I could pretend you were my girlfriend. And then you told me you hated this line of work. That you hated men like me paying for you. And I couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't fucking do it. Because I was part of the problem, and you were never gonna love me back."  
"But I did," she said. "I do."

Those words he had craved to hear but never thought would come out of her mouth. He didn't know how to react. This couldn't be real. He had to be dreaming or be hearing things. His silence made her continue.

"Why do you think I told you you were my favorite? Or why I kept giving you discounts. I took away my share for that weekend because I wanted to be with you. What you paid went to the agency," she said.  
"They take 10 grand while you only get 5? That's not fair," he said.  
"It's still 5 grand. It's a lot of money. And they pay for transport and items when I need it for a client," she said.  
"That's not fucking fair!" He gritted his teeth. "You're doing all the work. You should get the biggest share. You should..."

He grabbed her face and kissed her. Even if she pushed him away, he had to. Just one more time. He had missed her lips. He had missed everything about her.

"You shouldn't be out there doing this work. Not when you hate it. You should be with me," he said.  
"I knocked on the wrong door," she said.

His mind wandered back to that conversation they had the last night together. About beautiful people having doors open to them, and how they sometimes knocked on the wrong door.

"So close it," he said.  
"I was young and stupid. I needed money. She made it sound so easy. Be with a rich man and get rich yourself. Try it one time. Just for an evening. If you don't like it, you can always leave. But it's a lie. You get sucked in. Soon years have passed and you have nothing to put on a job application. Who's gonna hire you if you write you've been a whore for the last 10, 5 or just 2 years? So you keep going, and the years keep getting more and more. You put money aside for the day where you're no longer beautiful enough to be booked by anyone," she said.

He stroked her cheek and smiled at her.

"You'll always be beautiful to me," he said.  
"Women like me don't get men like you. This isn't a remake of Pretty Woman," she said.  
"I knocked on your door, and you let me in. I know I walked out on my own but let me back in. Let me stay for good. Let me be the final man you're ever gonna be with," he said.  
"Really? You wanna be with a prostitute?" She asked.  
"I wanna be with the most beautiful woman in the world," he smirked. "And I'm looking right at her."

She smiled at him. That beautiful smile he had missed so much.

"But Jey," she started.

She didn't get a chance to finish that sentence. The sound of someone puking reached them. They walked around the house and found Jey of all people throwing up in a bush.

"Drew? Chanterelle?" Jey looked confused. "I can still go. I can still..."

Jey fell into Drew's arms and started snoring. He was out like a light.

"You can still go home," Drew chuckled. "Do you know where he lives?"  
"We met at his hotel," Chanterelle said.  
"Okay, let me see," he said.

He went through Jey's pockets and found a key card.

"Let's get him back to his hotel," he said.

Jey slept through it all. Drew drove to the hotel and carried Jey all the way to his room. He got the drunk man down on the bed and then looked at Chanterelle.

"How long did he book you for?" He asked.  
"Just for tonight. I wasn't supposed to stay the night," she said.  
"Good, then he can't complain. You were here. You did your job. He chose to get drunk and pass out. No refunds. He knew the rules," he said.

They left the hotel and went back to his car. He drove to his home that she already knew. She had been there many times. She had even been inside and spent a lot of evenings and nights in there. This time it was different. She was either gonna walk inside with him and stay for good, or she was gonna walk down the driveway and out of his life. Never to return.

"Where do we go from here?" She asked.  
"I don't know," he answered. "Where do you wanna go?"  
"I'm 33 years old and all I've done since I was 19 is to play roles and spread my legs for people," she said.  
"Did you ever play a role with me?" He asked.  
"I was going to," she sighed. "I was gonna be whatever you wanted when I left my apartment that day. And then I met you. I couldn't play a role with you. With everyone around us when we were out together, yes, I played the role of your business partner. But what you saw was always me. And my name is Chanterelle. I know you've been wondering. Everyone always does. It's a weird name, I know."

He smiled at her through the darkness inside his car. She smiled right back at him. A warm smile. Her eyes lit up as always. So much life and love inside them. It was in that moment he realized that no one ever saw her eyes sparkle like that. No one but him.

"Walk to my door with me. Walk inside my house with me," he said.  
"And then what?" She asked.  
"And then stay. As my girlfriend. Leave your job. Find something else. Go back to school. Whatever you want, I'll support you until you find what you want to do," he said.

She leaned over and kissed him. He knew that was a yes. She didn't need to say the word.

"The shelter is looking for someone," she said.  
"Apply for it," he said.  
"What if they say no?" She asked.  
"Say no to you? Who in their right mind would do that?" He smirked. "And if they do, I'll buy the god damn shelter and hire you myself."

She let out a laugh. The beautiful sound of her laughter only made him smile even more.

"You do know that if I get that job, one day you'll come home from the road and realize you suddenly have 7 dogs," she joked.  
"Then I'll have 7 dogs," he pecked her lips. "And you. I'll have you. You're all I want."  
"Guess I'm knocking on your door then," she chuckled.  
"I'm gonna lock that thing behind you so that you'll never leave again," he said. "Okay, that sounded creepy. I didn't mean it like that."

She kissed him to shut him up. Without another word, they got out of his car. They met in front of the car. He took her hand and they both stared up at his house. She squeezed his hand to tell him she was ready. As they were walking towards his front door, he knew he finally had her. She was finally his for real.

His fantasy. His dream. His woman. His beautiful Chanterelle.


End file.
